


your heart is heavy and red

by skvadern



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Gender/Sexuality, Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Non-Human Narrator, Other, absolute tenderness hours, being raised klyntari is traumatic as fuck, biology described weirdly, but venom is learning that not everything has to be awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skvadern/pseuds/skvadern
Summary: Eddie can afford this luxury. Eddie will never have to run afraid and powerless through a world he does not understand. Venom will never leave him defenceless.A quiet morning in between two lovers. Quiet by their standards, at least.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 24
Kudos: 379
Collections: Marvel Universe





	your heart is heavy and red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tonytonesphoneroo5000 (pleasesir)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesir/gifts).



> this adorable bit of monsterfuckery is dedicated with much, much love to my brilliant best friend dee, who is an incredible writer and a genuine angel. merry christmas like twice over my love, im very sorry about the year-long writers block on this, lets hope youre still into fluffy monster porn (jk i know you are). i hope you have a lovely christmas, and the fantastic 2020 you so hugely deserve. i couldnt ask for a better partner in monster-porn crime, or a better friend
> 
> title from drive by melissa ferrick

The most important thing anyone needs to know about humans, in Venom’s distinguished opinion, can be seen most easily in their young.

On Klyntar, the young of the species come into being fully formed, already knowing their environment and their purpose. This is necessary; the environment of their ancestors being hideously dangerous and full of things that want to eat the newly formed Klyntari, and their purpose being to not be eaten, and to eat as many things as possible. Not that much has changed over the centuries – Klyntari do not have civilisation. They consume civilisations.

It is terrifying. To be so new and soft, untested, surrounded on all sides by things older and stronger than you who are determined to test you, preferably to destruction. So you run and hide, and wish to an unformed concept that may be a god that, please, you will survive. Anything at all, just help you survive.

If you do survive, time and furious terror will take care of the softness. You grow strong, fierce and fast until you’re the monster that other small things run from. But you do remember. How scared you were, how no one helped you; how the only thing in the world you can rely on is your own strength. How everything wants to eat you, and the only way to survive is to eat it first.

Perhaps what is true of humans is true of Klyntari after all.

Venom is pulled out of its musing by a shifting in the muscles that hold it, sweet little electric crackles along the fibres bringing it out of the light, drifting ease that is the closest a Klyntari can approximate to sleep. Eddie is about to become interesting again.

Not that Venom can begrudge its host the eight hours of rest, not after Dan Lewis explained to it how important sleep is to healthy human functioning. And occasionally, Eddie is even interesting when asleep. It hasn’t quite figured out how to read his dreams yet, but it can get them sometimes. And it has plenty of time to learn.

That knowledge washes warmly through the parts of itself it has twined through Eddie’s body and it lets out a soft, subvocal sigh. Eddie’s gotten better at picking up its movements through his body, and the sensation makes him groan and roll over. Sudden pressure blooms over the side of his face – Eddie has pulled a pillow over his head. It is deeply adorable.

Venom sends a tendril blossoming out of his spine to check the little clock on their bedside table, and see the numbers are 8:34. The little letters next to the numbers read _Sun_ though, so Venom isn’t worried that Eddie may have overslept. _Sun_ is Sunday, and humans have decided that Sunday is a day of rest and no working, so Eddie gets to stay in bed longer.

This is good, because if Venom was correct in its reading of a dream Eddie had in the younger hours of the night, and if it’s interpreting the blood comfortably filling Eddie’s erectile tissue correctly, it has a good reason to keep Eddie in bed longer.

It sighs again, this time making the movement stronger, thrumming outwards through Eddie’s muscles. Eddie groans again, deeper and more resonant, sending an answering thrum through Venom. There’s something luxurious in his slow stretch in response, movement simply for the sake of movement, for the sheer joy of sensation.

Eddie can afford this luxury. Eddie will never have to run afraid and powerless through a world he does not understand. Venom will never leave him defenceless.

“Hey, love,” Eddie addresses him, voice gravelly with sleep, sending more lovely vibrations through his throat and torso. Venom gives his muscles an answering squeeze, paying particular attention to the area over his ribs. It is careful not to compress too hard – there are so many fragile, precious organs there, the thin softness of his lungs and his blood-rich, powerful, lustrous heart – just hard enough to for Eddie’s brain to release a pleasant little burst of oxytocin. Of course, Venom can artificially stimulate the production of these hormones that make Eddie feel so good, but Dan Lewis has warned it against overloading Eddie’s system, especially when its understanding of human biology is still incomplete. Besides, why bother? Stimulating their manufacture naturally is so much fun.

 **Hello, Eddie,** it says, and in his sleep-heavy state, the deep note of Venom’s voice makes Eddie tremble, just a little. Like prey, caught in Venom’s grasp. The predator that Venom is, will always be, likes that immensely.

“Time is it?” Eddie slurs, sucking in a deep breath as if pushing against the bands Venom has woven around his chest.

 **Does it matter?** Venom asks. **We have time.**

“If you say so, love,” Eddie mutters, but he relaxes back into the warmth of his bed all the same. Such a good host.

Venom sends more tendrils of itself melting out of Eddie’s pores, curls them down his arms in a silky-smooth river to twine with his hands. Eddie closes his hands around them, squeezing gently, and brings one up to his face where he brushes his lips tenderly over it.

Before Earth, before Eddie, Venom couldn’t have imagined ever being so stupid as to allow another to put its mouth on it. Surely, that would be suicide. Never could it have anticipated the sweet warmth flowing through it at the almost unbearably soft touch. Another wonderful thing Eddie has given it. Another thing it will never stop trying to repay him for.

Speaking of repayment, Eddie doesn’t seem to have noticed that he’s hard yet. How he can miss something like that, Venom has no idea, but then Eddie appears to be ignorant of so much of his bodily functions, so many things happening automatically and without tripping a single nerve cell. He barely seems aware of most of his conscious thoughts and feelings, either. And Venom is happy to help remind him of this.

Eddie gasps as it caresses his cock, just the right amount of cool pressure to tease him properly. He rolls his hips into it, a long slow movement that as ever Venom finds oddly graceful. Beautiful, Eddie is so beautiful, every part of him. It slides tender limbs around his cock, cups his balls firmly, encages this strangely vulnerable part of Eddie’s anatomy. It supposes it’s fitting, that something so easily hurt would be the part of Eddie that brings him so much physical pleasure. Isn’t that just how humans work?

“Mmm, this is nice,” Eddie murmurs. “I always wonder, though, what do you get out of this?” His voice is still deliciously sleep-rough, but that’s an unusually long sentence for this soon after waking. Eddie is always surprising him.

It manifests the head that Eddie, for some reason, feels more comfortable interacting with, and again lets vision come to the fore of its senses. Not that its vision looks anything like Eddie’s, and Venom is always faintly surprised when it sees their face in a reflective surface through Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie is beautiful seen through human eyes, of course, but in Venom’s vision he is _radiant_.

 **”I like making you feel good,”** it replies, careful not to sound too dismissive. Eddie can be sensitive about these things, Venom mustn’t be cruel to him in this way. Other ways, obviously, but not this way. **”I can feel what you’re feeling, yes? And that feels good to me.”**

“So you’re getting my orgasm second-hand, then?” Eddie asks. He reaches a hand up to cup Venom’s head, brushes his warm dry palm over the curve of what he sees as its skull, and chuckles when Venom pushes into it. When it opens its mouth and lets its tongue twine around his wrist, glorying in the taste of his skin, its warm resistance, he sucks in a breath, pupils blowing wider.

 **”That’s not all I’m getting,”** it tells him when it draws its tongue back, and curves its mouth into an approximation of a smile. From its connection to Eddie’s brain, it sees the image of its teeth reflected, accompanied by the rush of fear-pleasure that always tastes so rich, so _good_.

“What, what else is in it for you, then?” Eddie asks, the last word twisting into a deep moan as Venom twists itself back and forth around his cock.

Venom gives this the consideration it deserves. While it’s trying to put its feelings into words – difficult, for what it is, but the thing that Eddie is needs words – it lets more bands of itself play over the surface of Eddie’s skin, where all the good nerves are. When its host sinks into its caresses, muscle fibres loosening all over, Venom feels a rush of…pride.

Maybe pride. It doesn’t feel like pride normally does; there’s a sweet tenderness to it that was entirely foreign to it until Earth. Until Eddie.

 **”Making you feel good makes me happy,”** it informs him, timing its words to a particularly sinuous twist around Eddie’s cock, just to make sure the message sinks in. Eddie arches beautifully, one hand reaching towards himself on instinct, and that won’t do. It’s nice when Eddie touches himself, but Venom wants to do this for Eddie itself. And as much as he likes to complain, he likes to be held in place even more.

Strangeness upon strangeness. The very idea of allowing something to have that much control over it makes Venom’s very core rebel in horror. But Eddie loves it, craves it, craves being forced to be still, be good, take everything Venom is giving him. It has given up trying to understand this particular facet of humanity; some things are just inexplicable.

So Venom tightens the bands it has wrapped around Eddie’s wrists and ankles until they are as unyielding as steel, and Eddie is held fast to their bed. The _noise_ that tears free of his mouth – Venom knows the feeling of intoxication from Eddie’s memories, and it can’t help but compare that to the rush of power and pride and tender, helpless love for the beautiful human gasping and writhing in its grip.

 **”You’re lovely,”** it tells him, as it curls a thin tendril down to rub against the soft, vulnerable skin under his balls, then further to press lightly against his hole, **”lovely in everything you do. You don’t know what you do to me, Eddie.”**

“I – ‘” Eddie gasps, breath coming hard as he twists and shakes, held fast against the bed. “I – tell me, then.”

Eddie, so curious, always aching for _more_. For someone who didn’t have spoken language until a few months ago, Venom has surprised itself by how much it likes to _talk_ to him.

 **”So sweet,”** it murmurs as it presses into him, making itself slick and relaxing Eddie’s muscles so he feels no pain, so it’s just a smooth glide that sends Eddie’s nerves sparking like circuit boards. **”The way you open for me, trust me, let me _inside_ you, every part of you…”** Eddie’s cry drowns out its voice as Venom presses firmly on his prostate, sending that strange and lovely pressure spinning through his gut. **”No-one has ever given me so much, Eddie. And you let me do such things to you.”**

Not that this is the most adventurous thing they’ve ever done, by either of their standards. Venom has spend many heady hours discovering exactly how much Eddie’s body can take, how much pleasure, how much pain. It has learned every sigh and moan, every gasp, every scream. Still, even if this isn’t anything special, it can tell how much Eddie is loving this. Pinned to the bed, stretched so slowly and lovingly, Venom’s tongue massaging and lapping at his cock with such tender cruelty. Eddie’s whole body is lit up, shining with heat and endorphins.

 **The _power_ you give me,** it snarls into Eddie’s mind, affecting the vicious tone it knows excites him so much. It works; Eddie _whines_ , a soft and fragile noise that sings through Venom as it fucks him, filling them both with glorious pleasure.

It loves Eddie – it, who has never loved anything in its long and painful life – loves him more than it can process, comprehend, has to let the love spill out of it in movement and pressure until Eddie is gasping and shaking, held and filled and _loved_.

It loves him and loves him and loves him until he breaks, spilling over its tongue and onto his stomach, whole body arching against its hold, crying so loud and unashamed and beautiful.

Venom trills in satisfied delight, flowing over every inch of Eddie’s sensitised skin, holding him through the aftershocks that soak through him like earthquakes through soft soil, hissing into his ear **”and I love you, Eddie. I do, I do, I do.”**

~~~~~

Eddie had been worried about allowing Venom around babies, but when Simran at his workplace had started bringing her baby to the office a couple of times a week, he hadn’t really been able to avoid it. As delicious as the little human had looked, Venom had found itself fascinated by her for entirely different reasons. The way her mother treated her, attending to her every need, her every cry. The soppy looks Eddie had given her, in the moments where he’d forgotten his determination to be aloof and cool with his new colleagues, playing little games with hands and facial expressions to amuse the tiny barely-a-person.

The carelessness with which the baby cried out for help when she found something distressing or strange, loud enough that _anything_ could have heard her, come running towards the easy meal. And yet, impossibly, nothing ever had. Another human had always been there to help her, care for her.

The most important thing you need to know about humans, as far as Venom is concerned, is that they’re born able to do very little except ask for help. They’re communal animals from birth, and what Venom had assumed at first was humanity’s greatest weakness it has seen, time and time again, to be its greatest strength.

Without that instinctive drive to communicate, to connect, Eddie would never have reached out to Venom, offering partnership and companionship such as it had never before known. Without seeing its first host’s memories of Eddie’s kindness, without seeing Dan Lewis and Anne’s attempts to help someone whose safety they had no true stake in – without feeling Eddie’s own exasperated care, his strange scared affection for the monstrous alien he should by rights have reviled – Venom would never have realised how much more there can be to existence than the hard, dangerous, solitary life it knew. Would never have reached out to Eddie in turn.

Wouldn’t be here now, resting against and inside Eddie’s chest as he comes down slowly, limp and lovely in his afterglow. Venom feels energised, thrumming with light and joy, and Eddie laughs when he feels it vibrate softly against his chest.

“Fuck,” he sighs, stretching abused muscles luxuriously, deliciously, “I’m gross. Help me into the shower, love?”

 _Help me_.

 **”Always,”** Venom tells him.


End file.
